


From Russia With Love

by LFC_FanficWorld



Category: Liverpool fc - Fandom, Magic/Fantasy - Fandom
Genre: Dele having magic powers, M/M, only the England NT know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 14:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17920553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFC_FanficWorld/pseuds/LFC_FanficWorld
Summary: Basically the World Cup if Dele was the most powerful person in the world. Only the England team know about it, but then Dele finds out that Eric has kind of contracted his powers too and then they have to work round that as well.





	1. The Day We Left For A New Beginning

“Words and magic were in the beginning one and the same thing, and even today words retain much of their magical power.” - Sigmund Freud

*****

The air was freezing in the car park of the Kazan Training Centre but Dele Alli barely noticed. He was curled up in a tiny ball on the cold, wet tarmac surface, tears of terror running down his face as he clutched his knees to his chest, shaking in anguish. The dampness of the ground wet his cheek along with the tears, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, determined to stop the flow. “Crying is for babies,” he’d been told, over and over, by anybody he knew that still had that vacuous image of masculinity and immunity against emotions that had possessed the stereotype of men. Dele had every right to cry, and he knew it. So he sprawled there, feelings unconfined and tears of utter misery seeping down his face. 

Up until the 8th of August, 2015, Dele Alli had had a perfect life. It was a commonly misused assumption that footballers had starkly different lives to those in the working class; the paycheque gulf was substantial, but Dele never saw himself as the kind of person who was defined by his occupation. Instead, he opted to be the best example to the public as he could by being quiet, professional and hard-working. 

It didn’t always work - and even in his early days at MK Dons Dele often found himself accused of simulation and received multiple bookings as a result of supposed dives. He didn’t try to shy away from the accusations, especially when his hunger to win drove him to look for fouls at every opportunity. He understood why it annoyed fans, and he understood why they didn’t see why an attempt to win a penalty would appeal to him more than a genuine chance to score. Yet his style of play suited Dons, who were on the rise. 

He made his debut for the team on the 8th of November 2012 as a sixteen-year-old, coming on as a 64th minute substitute against Cambridge City in the FA Cup first round. From there, he played for three seasons for MK Dons before Tottenham managed to wrestle him from their grasp, buying him on the 2nd February 2015 and immediately loaning him back to MK Dons for the remainder of the season. In his last term with the club he had been with since he was 11, he won promotion to the Championship with them. 

The 8th of August 2015 marked the day that Dele Alli’s life changed forever. It was daunting enough without his debut having to fall on an away defeat to Manchester United. He came on as a substitute, playing the last 13 minutes of a 1-0 defeat in place of Eric Dier. But by that time, everything had changed. 

Deep down, Dele knew he was different. It wasn’t always obvious - he had become used to hiding everything about himself that stood out. But he had attempted, many times, to become vegan to try and get animals to like him a bit more. Like the dogs that would career away every time he tried to pet them, the cats that would hiss at him as he walked by, the birds that would flee the trees above him if he came anywhere near. He had always believed that animals were far more intelligent than humans, and if they could see the real Dele beneath the facade that he had created for himself, then his theory was proven. 

But it was more than that. From a very young age he had had an acute understanding of things far beyond his age, things that people like him should never have had to cope with. But cope he did, and in doing that managed to harness the power that was growing inside him. 

Because, as simple and easy-going and normal as Dele might have seemed from the outside, he was anything but ordinary. He was a Premier League footballer, playing for Tottenham Hotspur and the England National Team, but if he wanted to, he could kill everything on sight. He could destroy buildings with a flick of his hand. He could annihilate the human race if he wished. 

But he never would. Dele never wanted to use his powers against anyone, and he prayed he never would. But sometimes it was harder than ever to control them, and sometimes things seemed desperate for him. He couldn’t understand why he had to be different to anybody else, and he had no answers. He was the most powerful person in the world, and yet he felt like the weakest little child at times. 

That was how he had got here, sobbing in the night in a training centre in Russia. He was here with the England team for the 2018 World Cup, and it should have been the happiest and most exciting month he had ever experienced. Instead, he was reduced to a mess of tears and loneliness in the car park. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. All he knew was that he’d been feeling so low, lower than he’d ever felt before, and it had completely overtaken him. He had no motivation to get up, to do anything, to even live anymore. But it was impossible. He couldn’t die. 

He suddenly heard thumping footsteps, and tensed up, ready to lash out at anything coming toward him. Instead he heard a terrified voice, familiarly ragged and edged with fear, call out his name. “Dele!”

He felt comforting arms pulling him up and into a warm, fierce embrace. He let himself into the hug, the sobs coming faster as he cried into the arms of Eric Dier. “Dele, Dele,” Eric whispered into his boyfriends’ hair, pressing his lips to his forehead. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?”

“Just let me die, Eric,” Dele coughed, burying his face in the soft material of Eric’s training jacket. “Please. Just let me die.”

“Dele, tell me what’s wrong,” Eric pleaded, wiping Dele’s tears away with a delicate thumb. “Is it your powers? Did you hurt somebody?”

“No, no,” Dele said quickly, before another sob racked his body. “Eric, I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t go on.”

“Del.” Eric’s voice was firm and kind. “You can’t give up. If not for yourself, don’t give up for me. I could never live without you. I love you. Remember that.”

The words were warm in the cold of the night, and Dele shivered as he felt the temperatures for the first time. “I love you too, Eric,” he confided weakly. “But I’m sick of being different.”

“There’s nothing different about you, Del,” Eric reasoned with him. “I need you to know that. When I look at you, I don’t see anything different about you. You’re perfect.” He cupped Dele’s chin and tipped it up slightly, so they were staring into each other’s eyes in the moonlight. 

“Eric, I need help,” Dele finally said. “I feel so low, all the time. I’m so lonely. It just feels like I have no-one, no-one like me.”

“You don’t have anyone like you, Dele. That’s what makes you you!” Eric told him. “You’re amazing. You’re the thing that keeps me going. And I need you, I need you so much.”

Eric allowed some tears of his own to slip down his cheeks and wiped them away furiously. This was about Dele, not him. “Come inside,” he ventured. “The squad will support you. We all will. I know it’s hard, Del - it’s been killing me seeing you like this. But if you let me help you then things will get better.”

Dele wiped his eyes and got unsteadily to his feet, slipping his hand into Eric’s. The firmness of his boyfriend’s grasp calmed Dele down a little, and his head cleared a bit. As he trailed toward the training centre, he gave Eric’s hand a little squeeze. “Eric...”

“What’s the matter?”

“Will things really get better?” Dele asked in a rush. Eric looked at him knowingly. 

“Only if you let them.”

*****

Dele Alli could do many, many things. 

For one, he could fly. He never did it - there was no space for him to do it without being seen, and it terrified him. He only found out when he woke up in his house a few weeks after signing for Tottenham and found himself levitating around a foot above his bed. The entire thing exhilarated and scared him in equal measure, and he was petrified of doing it again. He could imagine falling out of the sky, unable to stop himself, just falling and falling until he hit the ground so hard that there would only be remains left of him. It was a nightmare for him, not least because of his acute fear of heights. 

For another thing, he was able to move things with his mind. It was a lot less harmful, and he generally had expert control over it. He still didn’t use it often, especially not for trivial things like floating the TV remote over to him every time he didn’t feel like getting up from his sofa, but sometimes he would float one of their free kicks in the top corner for Tottenham if they were under the cosh. He’d stopped caring about that kind of thing a while ago. He was too numb to consider the teams that would suffer every time he tipped the tide in his teams’ favour. 

And he could create fire. He only ever did it when he was angry - it seemed to evict all the emotion from his body. Sometimes he would build up a tiny candle flame in his palm, sometimes it would be a burning inferno that would engulf his entire body. He didn’t feel the heat as anything more than a little tickle, and it was his outlet for all the trapped feelings inside him. 

He rarely used his powers, but they were always there. He could feel the adrenaline buzzing in his hands, as if they were always just under the surface, ready to be unleashed. It created a constant weight on Dele’s mind, and he could never escape it. He often wondered how he had got to this place - so lonely, so dejected, so miserable - but it had never been this bad. Sometimes he wished he’d never been born at all. 

That said, Eric was the one thing that kept Dele going. The unfaltering source of kisses and hugs and comforting words were the only thing that he looked forward to anymore. Eric Dier was an uncomplicated, kind, caring person who seemed to value Dele above everything else in his life, not least because of the persistent depression that hampered Dele on a daily basis. And Eric loved Dele’s powers. He found it incredible; he told his boyfriend it was something to be proud of, even if Dele didn’t agree. Eric seemed to see it as an asset to Dele’s character. And that was what kept Dele going. 

*****

“Have a sit down,” Eric instructed to Dele, who collapsed into a gym chair in the training centre. He had stop sobbing, but the tears still dripped down his face. Eric brought him a cup of water and Dele donwned it thirstily. “Right, Del.” Eric sat next to his boyfriend and took his hand. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I...” Dele looked down at his lap, and a tear fell from his eye. He froze it in mid-air. “I just feel so low. All the time. Like I just want to die.” He flicked his fingers up, and the frozen teardrop fell the rest of the way down to his lap. “But I can’t. I hate not being able to die.”

“Why?”

“Because when I’m older, when I get to two hundred, three hundred, I’ll have to go into hiding because people will find out about it. How else could I have lived so long?” He felt the anger building again and quickly ignited a flame in his palm like a tiny flickering candle light. The white hot flame reflected in his eyes. 

“Dele, I know you hate this. I know you hate yourself. But I love you, I love you so much.” Eric put an arm round Dele’s shoulder. “Never forget that.”

“I just want to escape. I wish I’d never become a footballer in the first place,” Dele said fiercely. “Then I could go and do what I’m meant to do. Live on my own, somewhere completely remote where I never have to see anybody.”

“Well, I’m glad you became a footballer, even if you aren’t,” Eric told him. “Because it’s the only way I ever could have met you.”

Dele smiled weakly. “I can’t go on like this, Eric,” he whispered, closing his fist and extinguishing the flame. “I need to do something.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to be human. I want to play football like a human. I want to die when I’m eighty, like everybody else. I don’t want to be like this.” 

“Dele, you’re human.” Eric looked at him with an unblinking gaze. “You are the most human person I know. You feel things, you cry, you get angry, you smile. You’re just like everybody else.”

“Then why - “

Dele suddenly stopped as he caught sight of Eric’s face. His boyfriend was staring at him in shock and a strange kind of amazement. Dele looked down at himself and gasped. A silvery glow was emitting from his skin, sending little shimmers of light up his arms and neck. He stood up quickly, rubbing his arms as if to wipe off the light. “Eric!” he cried in terror. “What’s happening?”

“Dele!” Eric’s voice was high and agitated, as he stared at his boyfriend in fear. As Dele stood there, fear coursing through his veins, the glow began to fade and eventually receded completely. 

“Oh, my God.” Dele collapsed back in the seat again. “Eric, what just happened?”

“I don’t know.” Eric looked as if he’d seen a ghost. “Do you feel ok? Did it hurt?”

“No... I feel fine. I feel - kind of better.” Dele’s voice was tinged with surprise. “I feel ok now.”

“Really?” Eric stood up and helped Dele to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you back to the hotel. I’m sure you need some sleep.”

“Yeah, probably.” Dele shivered as he stood up, taking a deep, shaky breath. “Thanks, Eric.”

“That’s ok.”

As he stumbled out of the training centre, the cold air hit him again and he sighed openly, rubbing his temple. They made their way back across the car park to Eric’s car, with one thought echoing in Dele’s mind. He whispered it under his breath, too quietly for Eric to hear. 

“What am I?”


	2. Dirty Tissues, Trust Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m basically just using random song lyrics as the chapter titles so XD
> 
> btw I haven’t planned this fic so I acc have no idea where it’s gonna go h

Dele had horrifying dreams, every time he tried to sleep. 

He would try to stay awake, no matter how bad he knew it was for him, because he was so terrified of the nightmares that awaited him. But they would pull him in, trapping him in their slimy tentacles and never let him free. Tonight, as he fell onto the double bed that he and Eric shared in the hotel room, he felt himself drifting almost immediately. “Come on, Del,” he urged himself, fighting to stay conscious. He felt Eric pull the covers over them both and wrap his arms around him, whispering comforting words in his ear. He wanted to keep hearing them, but his awareness swayed and suddenly he was falling, down and down into dreamland. 

He found himself standing in a vast wasteland, a gentle breeze blowing over the ground. He could see the sun, shining brightly into the cracked surface and clouds drifting lazily over a dusky sky. He took in his surroundings apprehensively, constantly checking for any threats. He took a few steps, and then against his sleeping will, leapt into the air and soared high above the rocky ground, flying so fast that the world became a blur around him. It was incredible, so exhilarating and terrible and unnatural, and he couldn’t understand it. He was terrified of heights in real life, yet here he was, carefree and unconfined, in this bizarre dream sequence. 

Eventually, he landed. The ground was dinstinctly disappointing compared to the freedom of the air, and he immediately wanted to fly again. Instead, he forced himself to stay grounded and called out. “Hello?”

There was no answer, just the barest whisper of the breeze. He tried again. “Hello?”

The world remained stonily cold to him. He frowned, looking all around him. And then he saw it. 

It was Eric. He was running toward him, waving his arms and trying to catch his attention. He seemed to be yelling something at Dele, a look of abject terror on his face. Dele ran toward his boyfriend, instinct taking over. “Eric!” he screamed. 

“Dele, you need to go! You need to run!” Eric had never looked so terrified. “Please, Dele, save yourself!”

Dele felt hot fear creeping over him and clutched Eric’s hand. “From what? Eric, what are you talking about?”

“You need to go, Del. You need to leave. They told everyone. They told everybody about us.” Eric’s eyes filled with tears. Dele shook his head in confusion. 

“What do you mean, us?” he asked. His head rushed with possibilities. The entire world knew about he and Eric’s relationship - he would never have been afraid of that. The society of football was far more welcoming to the LGBT+ community than it had been before, and besides, Dele couldn’t give two shits about what the world thought of something like that. “They already knew we were together, Eric!” he told him. 

“No! Not that,” Eric said frantically. “You giving me your powers. They told everybody. They’re coming to kill me...”

Dele dropped Eric’s hands, bringing his own to his head in shock. “I didn’t... I didn’t give you my powers. Did I?” He stared at Eric in fear. “Eric, did I?”

“When we were in the training centre,” came the shaking reply. “When you starting glowing. I can’t do this, Dele. Why?” His voice rose to a yell, angry and heartbroken. “Why did you give them to me?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Dele tried to retake Eric’s hands, but found himself pushed away. 

“Just go,” Eric spat, pointing roughly into the distance. “Just save yourself.” He turned back to walk away from Dele, but looked back one last time, a look of vengeful spite in his eyes. “You’ve got used to doing that recently.”

Dele woke, coughing and spluttering, trying desperately to catch his breath. He felt Eric shaking him, and opened his eyes to see his boyfriend leaning over him anxiously. “Del! Del, wake up. It’s fine, I’ve got you...”

“Eric.” For the millionth time, Dele began to cry. 

He felt stupid falling into Eric’s arms yet again, but they were always there for him, always ready to catch him when he inevitably fell. When he was tidied up and wide awake with a cup of piping hot tea in his hands, he found the energy to smile wanly at his boyfriend. “I’m sorry about all this?”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Well, I bet when you first became friends with me you didn’t expect me to be - be like this.” He punctuated his sentence with a humourless laugh. 

“I would never want to change anything about you. I became friends with you for who you are, Dele Alli. I became friends with you for your beautiful soul, and nothing else.” Eric smiled shyly, staring down into his own decaf. 

“I became friends with you because the moment I saw you,” Dele commented delicately, “I knew we were meant to be. I never planned on telling you about my powers. I never told anybody at MK Dons.”

“I’m glad you did tell me. I couldn’t stand not knowing what’s going on with you.” Eric looked at him quizzically. “How come you didn’t tell anyone at Dons?”

“Lower league clubs... it all just felt a bit intimidating,” Dele admitted, taking a long sip of the tea. “The fans seem to know everything that’s going on. Plus, I never really had anybody at MK Dons that close to me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” As Dele sat there, his mind was drawn back to the time he did tell Eric, the most nerve-wracking, terrifying moment of his life. Telling the person he loved the thing that might break them. 

*****

“Eric, stop the car.”

“What?” Eric looked at him confusedly. They were driving up the road outside Wembley, having just left after a comfortable win over West Ham. Dele had sat the entire match on the bench, having only just made his debut, and had the full 90 minutes to think about how he was going to tell Eric this. He looked steadfastly into his boyfriends’ eyes, and repeated the words. “Stop the car. Pull over.”

“Do you feel sick?” Eric pulled the car over onto a curb and reached behind to grab his bag. “I’ve got some Ibuprofen in here...”

Dele took a deep breath, and the bag slowly lifted and floated in between the gap between the driver and passenger seats. Eric’s eyes went wide with shock, and he snapped back his hand as if he’d been electrocuted. “Del...” he whispered, edging away from the bag, which settled itself on top of the handbrake. “What... are you seeing this?”

Dele looked down and nodded. “I need to tell you something, Eric.”

“Is that you doing that?”

“I can do far more than that,” Dele said quietly. “I can fly. I could set fire to Wembley stadium - “ He indicated behind him to the silhouette of the infamous arch of the historic ground - “like this.” He clicked his fingers, and the sound echoed in the silence of the car. “I could kill anybody on sight.”

Eric didn’t speak. His mouth moved as if he was trying to form words, and Dele felt his heart jolt. 

“I’m not saying I will. I would never do that,” he said quickly, suddenly terrified he’d ruined everything. “But I needed to tell you. I love you. I don’t want to lie to you.”

“Are you...” Eric struggled to form the sentence. “Are you serious? This isn’t a joke?”

In answer, Dele held up a hand and let a tiny flame lick at his fingertips. Eric stared at it, then looked into Dele’s eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I’ve wanted to for so long,” Dele said in a rush. The flame disappeared, and he looked down. “I didn’t know whether you’d still want to be together.”

“Dele, nothing could make me not want to be with you. I’m just confused.” Eric’s hand sneaked out and clasped Dele’s, starting a little when he felt the heat from the extinguished flame. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either,” Dele said helplessly. “I just thought that if I didn’t tell you now, I never would.”

“Let’s go back to the house.” Eric turned on the engine again and pulled off the curb. “We should talk more there. It’s easier.” Dele quietly agreed. 

Back at the house, Dele had shown Eric everything he was comfortable with - which, of course, didn’t entail flying. Eric knew of Dele’s fear of heights and didn’t pursue it, instead asking Dele to show him whatever he wanted to, and nothing at all if he wished not to. Dele restricted it to moving things around the house, allowing the flames he created to engulf his body, and let Eric drop things for him to freeze in mid-air. With every new demonstration, Eric grew more and more believing about the revelations. And before they went to bed, he promised Dele that he would always love him, no matter what. 

Dele just hoped it was true. 

*****

“Eric, I had the strangest dream,” he said now, draining the last few drops of the hot drink from the mug and placing it carefully on the side. “I’ve been having them all the time.”

“Really? What was it about?”

“I was just in this - this wasteland.” Dele scratched his head and sighed. “You were there. You came up to me and just kept going, ‘Save yourself, save yourself.’ I didn’t know what you were talking about, but then you said that someone had told everyone about something. You kept saying, ‘They’ve told everyone, everybody knows.’ Then you said that when I started glowing in the training centre, I’d given you my powers.” He shuddered. “I didn’t, did I?”

“No!” Eric said quickly. “That’s just an anxiety dream. I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Eric finished his coffee and put both mugs in the sink, running them under the cold tap. “Back to training today, then?”

“Yeah. Only three days until the Tunisia match,” Dele conferred, referring to the World Cup Group G opener for England. “You nervous?”

“Not really. Just excited. All I want is for us to do well.” Eric kept his back to Dele and his voice even. Dele crossed over to him and wrapped his arms around his waist, putting his chin in the dent of Eric’s shoulder blade. Eric turned and kissed him softly, placing his hands on the sides of Dele’s face. Dele spoke into his boyfriends’ lips. “I love you, Eric. You know that, right?”

“Of course. And I love you, my beautiful, incredible little angel,” Eric whispered, pulling him into a hug. Dele felt himself relax in the embrace, and closed his eyes in a kind of peace that he hadn’t felt for a while. He felt the warmth of his boyfriend radiating through his skin, and smiled, keeping all of his worries at bay for just a while more. It was hard being here, in a foreign country while he was fighting to keep going under all the sorrow he was feeling, but with Eric by his side, it felt a little easier. And maybe things would be ok. One day.


End file.
